The Thin Line Between Love and Hate
by Misha Schmidt
Summary: I'd be mad at James, go to break up with him, and instead, we'd just end up having hot sex. We're stuck on that thin line between love and hate. But right now? I don't care. Kames/SMUT


**Hey guys. I'm in St. Maarten right now, on a random holiday in the middle of a school term. Sigh. It's really beautiful, though. This is a random one shot I wrote when I was bored. Just so y'all know, I have nothing against Kim Kardashian. I'm actually sleeping away on myself right now, literally. So if there are any mistakes, sowwie. Also, there's a lot of cursing in this. Lol, I was kinda in a bad mood. Oh, and it's based on the song One More Night by Maroon 5.**

_Yeah, but baby there you go again, there you go again making me love you _- One More Night by Maroon 5

I fucking hate James Diamond.

But I fucking love him too.

He gets me so freaking angry and turned on at the same time. I love him and I hate him.

It's frustrating. But I've made up my mind. I'm going to break up with him tonight. I swear. I cross my heart, and I hope to die that I'll only stay with him one more night.

I'm outside his door, rolling my shoulders, preparing myself to do this. I ring the door bell, and _fuck, _I want to throw myself and kiss him so fucking bad. My body yearns for him, I _need_ him, in a way I've never needed anyone.

He drags me inside, and his mouth is all over me, and I want to tell him, _No, stop it, James, _but my body refuses to fucking listen to me. I grab his face, and I want to punch him and eat his face out at the same time.

He gets me so mad! Ugh. But I can't help it as my hands thread through his hair and pull him closer, our hips rocking against each other, and I could feel threads of pleasure racing through my body.

A moan escapes my lips, and to my utter fucking dismay, he pulls away and winks. Then he swaggers his petite ass away.

And THAT'S what always fucking gets me. I see him raise one finger, and I know what it means.

_James -1, Kendall – 0_

Oh, it's _on,_ bitch.

I stride up to him and slam him into the wall, and we're rolling desperately against each other. I'm fighting back my moans that urgently want to escape.

I sink my teeth into his neck, and suck violently, and now he's ripping at my tresses and mewling so adorably. His eyes are shut, and I want to fuck him into next week, but then I remember that this was just to get back at him.

I pull away, feeling like I'm ripping duct tape off an open wound, but when I see the longing look in his eyes, I immediately feel better.

It only lasts a second, though, before a smirk forms on his face, and I'm fucking pissed. Even though I've 'won' this 'round', he has the fucking audacity to fucking smirk?! We're even now, but I don't think it matters anymore.

I want him, he wants me.

We stand there, chests heaving, staring at each other with lust-filled eyes for what seems like years, before we both lunge forward, and meet each other halfway, ripping at clothes, biting and sucking and kissing all over.

I slam him against the door tugging at his shirt, pulling it off, silently cursing James for even wearing clothes in the first place.

I kiss my way down his chest, teasing him gently, and rubbing him through his pants. He's bucking against my hand, moaning my name over and over like a mantra. At this point, I can't even remember why I was mad at him in the first place, or if I was even mad with him anyways.

I just don't fucking care anymore.

I'd be mad at James, go to break up with him, and instead, we'd just end up having hot sex. We're stuck on that thin line between love and hate. But right now? I don't care.

Fuck, we should be porn stars. We'd make billions of dollars, and be way more famous than Kim Fucking Kardashian.

I rip his pants off, literally, because they're taking too fucking long for me to unzip them nicely. He's wearing these Spiderman boxer-briefs, that I know he put on just for me, and it gets me so fucking hot, that I mouth him right on Spidey's little red head, making him whimper my name. I could literally feel rolls of ecstasy coming off of him in waves, and it turns me on so much.

Maybe I'm going to regret this entire thing in the morning, but right now, I. Don't. Fucking. Care.

I rip apart Spidey's head, because I get jealous that he's closer to Jamie's dick than I am.

James' dick springs out, standing majestically in front of my anticipating mouth. I swallow it whole, thanking heavens for my amazing gag reflex. He's a moaning mess as I lightly drag my teeth over his member, then, flattening my tongue, I graze it over the tip.

He tastes so fucking awesome, I could eat him for the rest of my life. His moans are driving me wild, and his hands grip my hair and tugs really hard, and pain shoots down my spine, but I don't feel it.

His head is pressed against the wall, his hips arched, eyes closed, and my name falls from his lips repeatedly. I know he's coming before he does. His hips still and the hand in my hair clenches even tighter. He's biting his lip, and I press down lightly on his dick with my teeth. And he comes.

He groans loudly, hips shuddering as he fills my mouth with his tasty sweet-sour cum. I swallow it all, licking my lips before standing back up. He doesn't even give me a chance to breathe before he grabs me and, throwing me over his shoulder, he carries me to the bedroom.

He _knows_ I hate being carried this way. It makes me feel like I'm being taken advantage of, it makes me feel helpless.

'Fucking put me down, James,' I say, pounding harshly at his lean back, but he doesn't even flinch.

I feel anger rising in me, and suddenly I fucking hate him again. I don't understand. How could someone make me feel so fucking conflicted like James? That should be impossible.

I growl, but he pretends that he doesn't hear as he dumps me on the bed and straddles me.

I don't bottom.

I don't _ever_ bottom.

And I'm _never_ going to bottom.

I slit my eyes, but he just fucking grins at me as his finger drifts to my shirt. I didn't even realize that the buttons were torn out. And it was my fucking favourite shirt too. Anger was hot flame in me, and I wanted to push James off and storm away.

But as his fingers drift over my bare skin under the shirt, I shiver and realize that I would never make it far. Somewhere along my 'storming away', he'd get me and make me want him all over again.

He pushes the shirt off my shoulders, and I raise my body for him to move it away. Then, he leans down and kisses my chest, his hand coming up and tweaking my nipple. A moan escapes, and he glances up at me, smirking. I want to slap that smirk off his face so bad.

His hands move to my jeans, and the button slips out of the hole easily, and he pushes it down to my hips, bringing slight relief to the tent in my pants.

He pulls down my boxers and tosses it away. Then he bends and covers my erection, once, before pulling off with a 'pop'. My eyes closes and my fingers grip the sheet as I feel ecstasy coil in the depths of my stomach.

I feel James' weight shift, and I open my eyes in time to see my cock entering his hole. His head is thrown back with a loud scream, and I grip his hips tightly. Fuck. I love him so much.

I think I'm bipolar.

But nothing matters anymore, as James raises his hips, and seeing my cock entering and coming out of his hole is way too much for me. I flip us over, before pulling out, then snapping forward into his ass. His hand grips my neck and he pulls me in for a heated kiss. Our hands roam the other's body, and his legs come up to wrap around my waist, pulling me even closer.

I'm fucking him hard and deep, long, even strokes, and James is groaning and whining under me. His hair is plastered to his forehead, and his eyes are wide blown with lust. It's such a beautiful sight, and I can't tear my eyes away from him.

I race a hand through his hair, and tug. He jerks forward, pushing down in time to meet with my thrusts. There are no words, just a series of grunts and moans, and unspoken communication between us.

My thrusts become erratic as I could feel the familiar coil in my body. I clench him tight as my hips shudder against his ass, filling him to the brim.

'Touch me,' he manages to say, and I hold him squeezing tightly. He comes, hard, back arching. I collapse next to him, both of us breathing heavily. The smell of sex is heavy in the air.

'You know,' I say, stretching like a cat, muscles uncoiling. 'I came here to break up with you.'

Only after I say it I realize that it may not have been the worst thing to say to someone right after you've had sex with them. But James just laughs.

And for some reason, that makes the white hot flame that I only associate with James rise up inside of me. How _dare_ he fucking laugh at me?

I roll off the bed, grabbing my pants and underwear, and one of James' shirts. I ignore his futile attempts to get me back into bed. At the front door, I pause, to put on my clothes. He comes up behind me, and sneaks a hand around my waist, sneaking a kiss.

I ignore the desire racing through my body, and push him away. He ignores me, and begins to palm me through my boxers. I gasp, my body eagerly jerking in motion. My head falls against his shoulder, and fuck, I want him.

And, then it's gone.

And he's sauntering away, leaving me helpless. I growl in frustration.

I fucking hate James Diamond.

But... I fucking love him too.

**Okay.. Idk how good it was... it was supposed to be a random one shot... which it is. Do y'all like it?**

**Idk. Twas probably lame lol... Review?**

**ChelziSchmidtxoxox**


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